A Slave and a Prophet Walk into a Bar
by ConsultingDoctorWinchester
Summary: Booker gets shoved through one of Elizabeth's tears and meets a new friend- Jack Ryan Rated T for strong language
1. Chapter 1- A Rough Meeting

"Elizabeth!" Booker pounded on the solid brick wall where the girl had opened a tear from Columbia moments ago. Someone had taken the opportunity to grab them and shove DeWitt through. "Elizabeth! Damn it, no!"

He backed away from the wall, shaking with anger. Or was it fear? Or both?

Once he hit another wall behind him, he realized he was in an alley. A narrow, dark, reeking alley. Wonderful. At the entrance, an overbearing glow of strange bright colors flooded the small space from a street.

A man had spotted him.

_Oh shit_

But the man only turned to a young woman, and Booker relaxed.

**...  
**

The man in ridiculously outdated clothing uncurled his fingers, and long streaks of electricity burst from his fingertips. Jack Ryan's stomach clenched.

He tapped his daughter, who as occupied looking into a shop window, on the shoulder, "Go on in. I'll be there in a moment."

He didn't want the Little Sister to know that the man was from Rapture.

She gave him a confused look at his severity, but quickly disappeared into the shop.

I'll deal with him, Jack thought.

He made his way into the dark alley quickly and quietly. The man with the electricity cradled his head in his hands and muttered Elizabeth to himself over and over.

Jack jumped from the darker shadow and grabbed the man, yanking him to his feet.

He intended to interrogate the man, but the first thing that burst from his mouth was, "Where's your Adam?"

**...**

Adam?

"What?"

"Don't fuck with me," The man growled. "Give me your Adam… and Eve! I saw your plasmid!

"What do you want?" The man continued. Either drunk or insane, Booker decided. "I left Rapture, alright!"

"Rapture?" Booker spat back, frustratedly trying to shake the man off. The man pressed a tattooed wrist to Booker's throat, forcing him against the wall. "Look, I'm from Columbia! I don't have any biblical people with me, or plasmids, or whatever the hell you want!"

The man pulled DeWitt close and then slammed hard him into the wall, obviously disbelieving. Booker let out a groan. The man moved to grab him again, but Booker was ready- whipping out a fully upgraded Columbian Hand Cannon and pointing it straight at the attacker's heart.  
**...**

Jack stepped back and raised his hands.

"Listen, friend," The man's words were threatening and spoken in a low growl. "I don't know where the hell I am. I don't have what you want."

_Lying splicer is what he is_, Jack decided.

"It sure looked like a plasmid to me," He tried to sound calm, but his heart pounded and his ears rang.

The man produced a bright blue bottle labeled "SALTS" and a few strange coins with his free hand. His tattoo, an "AD", rippled across his hand as he tightened his grip- daring Jack to move while he was busy.

When the man offered them to him, Jack took the objects and examined them thoroughly. Both said in large letters that they were from "Columbia", where the man claimed to be from.

"Alright," Jack sighed. "Another damned city. Where?"

"In the sky," The man said bluntly. "What's Rapture?"

"Underwater city," Jack said with equal bluntness. The man looked amused but not surprised.

"I'm Jack Ryan," He continued, extending his hand. The other lowered his gun and took Jack's hand.

"Booker DeWitt."


	2. Chapter 2- Story Time

Jack led Booker out of the alley and onto the street. Passers by looked strangely at DeWitt, especially his outfit, but hurried along without saying a word.

"Stay here," Jack instructed and went into a building.

Jack easily located his daughter and coaxed her out of the shop. When she saw Booker, her eyes widened, "He's from Columbia. Booker DeWitt."

Jack flinched, noticing that the way she looked with her wide eyes and suddenly breathy voice she was very much again like a Little Sister.

"I learned about him in Rapture," She said in a faraway voice. Booker looked uncomfortable at being recognized by a stranger.

**...**

"There's a girl," Booker said. He and Jack and found a quiet bar after sending Jack's daughter home and were exchanging stories in hushed voices, taking turns to cast paranoid glances around the place. "Elizabeth. I was hired to get her out and, well, the mission kinda went to shit."

"Oh," Jack murmured and took a sip of the overlarge lager he had ordered.

"She has this... ability," Booker continued. "She can open 'tears' to other realities. She opened one on accident and we were ambushed. I was pushed through and here I am."

"Nice."

"Your turn."

"It's long and complicated as hell," Jack sighed. "There was a plane crash- which we're not getting into- and I ended up in Rapture. A beautiful city that went all wrong. Everyone was turned into monsters and the city was destroyed when I got there," He absentmindedly touched one of the chains inked on his wrist.

"Why can't people be content with land?" Booker asked angrily.

Jack half-raised his glass tiredly, "Good question."

Booker bumped his own glass against Jack's and they both drank in silence.

"You said something about Eve and Plasmids," Booker prompted, setting his now half-empty glass down.

"Same as your Vigors, I think," Jack replied and stretched his fingers to activate a power no longer there.

"Your daughters... they're from Rapture?"

"When I was there-" Jack paused and collected his thoughts. "-there were these children. 'Little Sisters', they called them. They were, uh, not themselves. I managed to kill their guardians and make 'em into kids again."

Booker shuddered.

"Elizabeth's been in a tower since she was born," Booker told him. "Seems kids can never be kids in these cities."

Jack agreed sadly.

"I dunno if she's dead or alive right now," Booker whispered to himself.

"Hey," Jack tried to be comforting. "She'll be alright."

"She's like a daughter to me," Booker shook his head as if to clear it." I know she wants to get back at her real father, Comstock, the leader of Columbia, but I'm scared she'll get taken again or even killed in the process."

"Hm," Jack said thoughtfully, thinking of when he killed Andrew Ryan against his will. Well, maybe partly against his will. "At least it's only one guy. At least there's not Big Daddys- robot men who protect the Little Sisters. Huge and scary as shit."

"Sounds like Songbird," Booker countered. "Or a Handyman. Or a Patriot." He launched into a brief description of the three monsters.

"Damn," Jack said when DeWitt had finished.

"What year is it again?" DeWitt changed the subject.

"1972."

"Well, assuming we're still alive," Booker mused. "Eliza and I sure have a lot to look forward to in the future."

Jack chuckled, "You have no idea."

"I don't doubt it," Booker smiled around a cigarette which he lit with a snap of his fingers.

"Ya know, Columbia doesn't sound too bad," Jack remarked sarcastically. "If you forget the crazy prophet and stuff."

"And the fact that everyone who lives there is a racism radicalist," Booker added with a puff of smoke.

"That too."

Booker took another thoughtful drag on his cigarette. There was a long silence- each man wrapped in his own memories of their respective hells.

"Sorry I attacked you," Jack said suddenly and looked Booker seriously in the eye.

Booker nodded and shrugged.

"I just..." Jack felt obligated to justify himself. " I did a lot of damage. Killed the leaders of the city and the rebellion, took the Sisters, and a whole lot more shit I'm not getting into. I just can't help thinking... someday somebody's gonna want revenge. I don't want my girls hurt or fatherless."

"I get it," Booker assured him. "I'd do the same in your shoes.

"And," He added after a moment. "We already killed the leader of the Vox Populi rebellion, so I can't judge you too harshly can I?"

"Guess you can't," Jack replied. Booker smiled, but it looked tired and sad.

"So Songbird, Comstock, every male citizen, the Vox Populi, Handymen, robotic George Washingtons," Jack recounted everything the other man had told him about. "I thought I had it hard."

"You did!" Booker said. "I mean, those robots, those two leaders, splicers,- and you admitted that that's not even scratching the surface of your adventures."

"That's true."

Booker finished off his cigarette and stubbed it in the plastic bar ashtray. By now the place was empty except for the two of them at the counter and a few drunks who insisted they could take more.

"First few nights back from the city I would come here to forget. Even the hangovers helped. I think the girls understood- it was more like I had five mothers than daughters then," Jack looked around the tiny hole-in-the-wall joint.

"Yeah. I used to come to a place like this after- well it doesn't matter," Booker replied. "People don't want you to know alcohol helps but it does."

Jack nodded, "Our lives are so fucked up," He said softly. Booker sighed to confirm and they each drank.

"BOOKER!" The shout came from the entrance behind them.

"Elizabeth!" Booker gasped and was across the room in an instant, pulling her into his arms. "Oh my god! What happened?"

"I'm okay," She assured him.

"Sorry!" Booker murmured into her ear. "It won't happen ever again, I swear. Jesus, I'm so sorry!"

"It wasn't your fault," She pulled away. "Speaking of which, I've found a tear to get us back!"

Booker turned to Jack, who stood and walked over.

"Elizabeth, this is Jack Ryan."

The young woman adopted her sweetest smile, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ryan."

"Miss Elizabeth," Jack fell in step with her formality and shook her hand. Elizabeth, he decided, was beautiful. He liked DeWitt all the more when he saw that the man- rather than like most men would- did not look at the girl like a piece of meat or a mere toy. The friendly-fatherly affection and relief on Booker's face made him look ages younger.

All three left the shop after Jack shouted to the bartender that he'd be right back. Elizabeth led them down to the end of the street.

"It's there," She informed them, pointing to a wall. Booker nodded, though he couldn't see what Elizabeth did.

"Open it."

Elizabeth threw her arms open, and with a _whoosh, _where the wall once was an old 19th century style cobblestone street flickered.

"Holy shit," Jack whispered, his eyes wide.

"Jack," Booker said. "Thank you. You're a good man. Take good care of those girls of yours."

"Look for me in a few decades," Jack grinned.

"If I ever visit Rapture, I'll bring you some Adam!"

"I seriously hope you don't!"

"Me too!"

"Good luck!" Jack wished him. Hand in hand, Elizabeth and Booker stepped back into their own universe. Booker faced Jack as the tear closed.

"I hope so," He said, and as the tear closed again, Jack swore he could see the fear swarm his friend like bees.

The wall was whole again, separating the two men- each hoping to meet the other again.


End file.
